The Dragon and her Queen
by Verkaiking
Summary: Dragon Queen one-shots.
1. Embers

_**First ever Dragon Queen fic, written 5 months ago and posted on Tumblr.**_

 _ **Including a few other one-shots I've written for this ship in the coming chapters.**_

 _ **I've written them all on Tumblr and never posted them anywhere else so I thought it was time to bring them here.**_

* * *

Maleficent can count on one hand the amount of times she's seen Regina broken, and the few moments that her young friend has allowed her to see her in such a vulnerable state have always been attributed to two things: one, her stable boy, and the heartache that comes with visiting his countryside grave, and two, Leopold, and the dread and pain that accompany his visits to her bedchamber at night.

Right now, Regina's blank stare and trembling lower lip, the way she slumps by the fireplace she'd ignited for her all those months ago, tell Maleficent that the reason for her friend's turmoil is most definitely her husband, an assumption confirmed when she walks closer and sees that the sleeve of Regina's tunic is torn, her hair disheveled, hands trembling.

"Oh, my darling," she whispers as she wraps her arms around her, holding her close and chanting "it's alright, you're safe now," over and over again in her ear.

"I'm okay," Regina utters, her voice so quiet Maleficent has to strain to hear it. "The potion you gave me worked, he was snoring before he could do anything, I'm just… shaken, I guess."

She's offered (on more than one occasion) to pay a visit to that wretched old man in her dragon form, to burn down his castle or devastate his kingdom or maim him or, well, anything that will get him to stop his advances on Regina, but the young queen is wise, has spies in court that have told her the nobles know of their friendship, so she's refused to let Maleficent help.

"They'll know I put you up to it, and then they will never back me up to take charge of the kingdom," she'd said.

"Why would you want the kingdom, dear? I thought you said you didn't want to be queen. Let me help, and you can come live with me if they get rowdy," Maleficent had insisted as they sipped wine in the luxurious throne room of her solitary castle.

"The kingdom is Snow White's. Taking it from her will be part of my revenge," Regina had countered, and that had been that. Maleficent knew of her plans to avenge her Daniel, knew that all her young friend had left was her anger, and she would not be the one to take it from her, would not be the one to alter the only course of life in which she found solace, so she'd relented, but had still given Regina a powerful sleeping draught to knock the king out before he could get his hands on her. Thankfully, it had worked like a charm.

"I'm glad you're alright," Maleficent says in her ear, still embracing the other woman, Regina's head tucked under her chin. She takes advantage of the closeness, her hand playing with her long, silky tresses, marveling at the softness of them, from the top of Regina's head all the way down and right over the small of her back where they end with a slight curl, the motions soothing both of them.

"I can't wait until my plan is finally in motion. I'm going to enjoy tearing them all apart," the queen says in an angry murmur, and Maleficent pulls away to look at her, into those eyes so full of hate and fire, her thumb tracing the small scar above her lip.

"Shh," she consoles, "don't think about any of that right now, just relax."

"I'm too keyed up to relax," Regina replies, but closes her eyes to try and rein in her bristling energy all the same. Maleficent then scoots to cradle her, resting her back against the leg of the chair behind them as she takes off Regina's cloak and brings her to lay back against her chest. She massages her shoulders a bit, but then her hand takes a different course, caressing her friend's body, exploring it as she takes deep breaths in time with hers, smiling when Regina hums.

"You're safe here," Maleficent says, "no one will come find you, you can rest easy, dearest."

Her hand finds a breast then, squeezes it gently, and Regina stiffens for a moment, turning to stare at her with a raised eyebrow.

"What are you doing, Mal?" she asks.

"Helping you relax," the dragon sorceress replies with a smirk, delighting in the way her words and her actions make Regina's eyes fall closed.

"Don't worry, dear," she insists as she continues her attentions, "this isn't some ploy to get you to do anything, I just want to help you feel better, remind you of who you are, just like you did with me."

"I don't remember this being part of my tactic," Regina sighs as she arches into her touch.

"Doesn't mean you can't enjoy it. Besides, it's nothing we haven't done before," Maleficent counters, finally tasting her skin, a tiny press of lips to jaw as she continues running her hands up and down the younger woman's curves.

"We were both very drunk that night," Regina replies, but her eyes remain closed, her body already giving in, softening under Maleficent's wandering hands.

"Shall I get the summer wine, then?" she jokes, and Regina's answering chuckle jostles her slightly.

"No need," she tells her, "just… keep going."

Maleficent's fingers dig into her hips before they trail back up and grab both her breasts under her leather vest, playing with the soft swells over the linen of her shirt. Regina's breathing grows labored, and her head lolls back against Mal's shoulder, surrendering to the sensations she's evoking in her.

"That's it," she coaxes, "just relax."

Her touch grows a little bolder, one hand snaking down into the waistband of her riding breeches and undergarments, giving her clit a cursory rub that has Regina moaning softly, almost sleepily. Maleficent continues, her fingers slow in their attentions to her clit, eliciting lovely sounds of pleasure from Regina as her mouth dives back into her, kissing her neck while her other hand remains at her breasts, freeing them from their confines and kneading, squeezing one nipple and then the other as she trails a wet path up her jawline with her tongue.

"Do that again," Regina demands when Maleficent's teeth sink into the joint of her neck and shoulder, and the dragon is not one to be told what to do, but just this once, she makes an exception, biting into the tender skin again and licking it right after, loving the cry of complete satisfaction that Regina utters at the feeling.

"It's alright, Regina," she murmurs in her ear, "you're safe here. You can let go with me."

Her hand is still tucked into her pants, spreading the wet heat of her around her sensitive flesh, venturing a finger inside her and moving slowly in and out for a few seconds before she adds another. The trousers are constricting, but not enough to warrant a change in their position, and Maleficent finds she can rile Regina up just fine like this, with her body laid out for her to admire as she continues sucking at her friend's neck, nibbling her earlobe, until finally Regina turns her head and crashes their lips together, tongues tangling, battling for dominance.

"Very soon," Maleficent whispers against her mouth when they part, her hand rubbing over her clit again, faster this time, "you're going to be a true queen, and everyone will cater to you instead of that little brat. You'll get your revenge, everything you've ever wanted, and it will be glorious."

"Yes," she breathes back, rolling her hips into her hand now.

"Yes," Maleficent agrees, "but in order to do that, you cannot forget who you are." Her fingers are rubbing over her, then dipping inside her, and she no longer knows if there's even a rhythm to it, all she knows is that Regina likes it, is moving deliciously as the sensations overwhelm her, it won't take much longer for her orgasm to peak.

Maleficent moves her two fingers inside Regina faster and faster, the movement banging the heel of her hand against her clit repeatedly, making the young queen cry out in ecstasy.

"You're powerful, beautiful. Dark and strong and fearless," she tells her, "and you are going to win."

That's all it takes, and Regina clenches her muscles around her fingers as she moans loudly, writhing as she comes, her body sagging against Maleficent when she takes her hand out from inside her pants and rests her chin on her shoulder, cheek pressed to cheek in a gesture far more tender than both of them are used to.

"Thank you," Regina says, still a little breathless.

"You're very welcome, dear," she answers saucily, wrapping both arms around her friend and holding her there as they take in the warmth from the fire that burns just a little brighter in the hearth.

"Do you really think I'm going to win?" Regina asks then, turning to face her, and Maleficent feels a genuine smile tugging at her lips at the innocence in her friend's tone as she voices her concern.

"Well, that depends," she taunts, "Are you a bad girl, Regina?"

The young queen takes a moment to ponder the seemingly inane question, and then that smirk, that evil, enticing smirk of hers appears, her mind no doubt conjuring a million scenarios in which she exacts her revenge on Leopold and his insipid daughter, and she answers in that deep, raspy quality her voice takes when she's excited, "The worst."

"Hmm," Maleficent replies with a satisfied smirk, "long live the queen."  
Winking at Regina, she snaps her fingers to transport them to her bed, where they fall asleep after hours of plotting the most entertaining ways to murder their enemies. And in that moment, no friendship has ever been stronger, than that of the Dragon and the Evil Queen.


	2. Fire

"Ridiculous."

"Regina…"

"This is ridiculous."

"Well, I can't hold a grand ball in my newly restored castle and not feed my guests, now, can I?" Maleficent throws back with an amused smile.

"You're being ridiculous."

"You're quite fond of that word today."

"I know how to cook, Mal. I don't need a class."

"Humor me, dear," the she-dragon insists, and Regina huffs out a frustrated breath, but grabs the ugly apron hanging by the fireplace and puts it on, walking towards the kitchen table, where a scared-looking young man waits for them, ingredients laid out for them to use.

"Your majesty," he greets respectfully, then looks at Mal and bows, "mistress."

They greet him in turn, wait for him to start the lesson, and Mal steps back for a moment, watching Regina as she measures and sifts and mixes and stirs, forming a symphony of sorts as she follows the kitchen boy's instructions and adds a little flavor of her own by playing around with a few spices.

It's hard to believe that only six months ago she'd been so lifeless, thrown over her chaise by the fire, cold and alone and unwilling to put herself back together… and then this girl -no, this woman, this queen- had shown up and turned her world on its axis. She'd helped her get back her fire, helped her reclaim her lands, restore her power. She'd found something to live for again, and while Maleficent would insist out loud that that something was revenge, deep in her heart she knew that was not it. In fact, it wasn't even a something at all, but a someone. The someone currently whisking some delicious concoction in a bowl and dipping a finger in it, bringing it to her lips to taste the fruits of her labor.

She seems satisfied with the sample, and then she turns and looks at her with a raised eyebrow.

"So are you going to help, or are you just going to stand there and watch?" she asks pointedly, long braid falling past her shoulder and against her back when she tilts her head up defiantly, a smirk on her face as she watches her.

Mal grins, pushes herself away from the counter and to Regina, one hand ghosting over her jaw, tilting her chin down so she can land a kiss on the young woman's forehead.

"So impatient," she taunts, moving towards the table and rucking up the sleeves of her dark purple gown, the kitchen boy now standing there, forgotten as the two women stare at each other with naughty smirks on their faces.

"That will be all, Chef," Mal says without even bothering to look his way.

"But I have yet to show you how to roast the chicken," he stammers.

"I said, that will be all," Mal says again, waving her hand carelessly to gesture him out of the room, and out of the corner of her eye she sees him scramble out as fast as his scrawny legs will carry him.

"What are you up to?" Regina asks, and her smile is devious, yet trusting and somewhat childlike, still retaining some of her innocence, a spark of her young charisma that king Leopold has not yet snuffed out, and it's a trait she only exhibits when she's here, in Mal's castle, in Mal's care, because here is where Regina feels safe, with her and no one else, and the knowledge has a thrilling little shiver running through her body.

That shiver is what pushes her following actions, what makes her dip a finger into Regina's sauce and dot the tip of the brunette's nose with it.

"Mal, we have to roast the chicken," she insists sternly with a roll of her eyes, but the corner of her mouth is tipping up in a smile, and Maleficent knows she has her.

"I know, and we will, I just want to try the sauce first," she says as she leans in and kisses off the mixture, moaning at the taste.

"Good?" Regina asks.

"Delicious," she replies, enjoying the way her young friend's eyes shine with pride at having pleased her. "It's missing a little heat, though."

Regina's smile dims, "It is?"

"Mhmm," Maleficent tells her, moving just behind her, her arms encasing her, her chin on her shoulder, nose skimming her neck, taking in the mouth-watering scent of her, sweet and tempting and wonderful. "Red pepper flakes. Gives it a little kick."

"Oh?" Regina's voice is breathy, her body shaking when Mal presses her front flush to her back, her hands still moving over the table on either side of Regina, grabbing the roasted hot peppers with a cloth and crushing them. She unravels the cloth carefully then, pinching just a tiny bit of the powdered spice between two fingers and adding it to the bowl, all the while remaining pressed against the young queen, who has now gotten comfortable and leaned back against her, face turning just for a moment to ghost lips over her skin before she turns back to the food, her right cheek brushing Mal's left as she watches her stir everything together.

"Here," she says as she moves from behind her after a moment and helps her sit on the table right next to the ingredients they've been using, their faces mere inches apart, "try it now."

She gathers some of the sauce in a spoon and offers it to Regina, who closes her lips around the silver utensil and savors the mixture, licking her lips after she swallows, heat flickering in her eyes as they run over the dragon's face.

"You were right, it's better with a little fire," she says suggestively, and Mal can only grin.

"Everything's better with a little fire," she retorts, her mouth finding hers.

They never get around to roasting that chicken.


	3. She Knows, She Remembers

**_For Dragon Queen Week - Day 2: Drinking Buddies_**

 ** _A/N: This is angsty because sad Regina… and there's mention of Robin. Just so y'all know._**

* * *

She's only just been brought back from the dead, just revived after a long stay in some eternal middle of despair and loneliness, but even so, it's like no time has passed between her and Regina.

Her makeup is lighter now than it was in the Enchanted Forest, her clothes more relaxed, and Maleficent knows, Maleficent remembers. Those drapings, the expensive, lavish adornments on her person were nothing but armor, nothing but a way to keep people at arm's length, and yet here, she's so much freer, so much more at home in the world, so much happier.

Or at least she was, at least that's what she's gathered from rumors she's heard around town, that Regina was happy at last, and then that happiness had been ripped away by something that was not her fault, something that couldn't have possibly be foreseen, something that makes it seem like the universe is out to get her, out to prevent her from ever finding her happiness.

Just like old times, then.

Maleficent knows, Maleficent remembers.

All those nights where Regina's wrath would ignite her own, those nights where her darling little queen's ire was the spark that would help her find the dragon in her and transform, carrying the young monarch on her back from one end of her lands to the other just so they could both have a respite, just so they could both feel free.

But Maleficent also remembers the bad days, the awful moments where she'd open her bedroom door to find Regina crying and curled up amongst her pillows, the picture of grace and beauty in her nakedness as she'd strip off her fancy trappings and soak in Maleficent's tub, asking her to warm the water, to make it scorching hot so that it would burn away the traces of the touch of a man not of her choosing.

Maleficent knows, Maleficent remembers.

She remembers the anger, the frustration on Regina's face whenever she'd escape Leopold's clutches, because it was never fast enough, because she was never able to scurry away before he left his mark on her, not before he managed to chip away at her composure just the tiniest bit, until little by little she'd become unhinged, mad in her thirst for revenge, depending on the Dark One for the power to do so.

Maleficent knows, Maleficent remembers.

And now she's there, sitting in a random bench in the middle of the park after hours, the moonlight casting silvery rays over her silky hair, adding a pallor to the tone of her skin. On the nights where things were especially rough at King Leopold's castle, or on the nights where the absence of her love Daniel tore her apart more than usual, this is what she would do, she'd find a place where she could be alone with her thoughts (usually in Mal's own castle), and then let them consume her, let them navigate through her mind in waves of spiteful insults, uttered reminders of past grievances and unworthys and not enoughs that ended up making her cry in Mal's arms until the sun came up.

Maleficent knows, Maleficent remembers.

She remembers how it was her who soothed that ache, how some wine and soft caresses were the only way to stop the tremors in Regina's body, and she knows then what she must do.

"Sulking in the night, as usual?" she asks in a low, uninterested tone as she reaches her friend, sits down next to her and stares out at the lake in front of them, not moving her gaze to Regina even when she hears the tell-tale sniffle of her sadness.

"I'm fine," she snaps in a broken voice, and this is how it was before, the entire scenario a big deja vu to the dragon sorceress who says nothing, only continues to gaze at the lake, though her hand finds Regina's on the bench and trails nimble fingers over the back of it, a quiet gesture of reassurance, one that Regina doesn't reject, but rather takes refuge in despite her attitude of just seconds before, turning her hand palm up and lacing it with hers.

"Sure you are," Maleficent replies, using her free hand to pull out the hip flask she'd stashed in her trousers for this exact purpose, thumb popping off the cap before she brings it to her lips, the liquid burning down her throat even after she's taken a swig and offers the drink to Regina.

"No, thank you," the queen replies shakily.

But Maleficent knows, Maleficent remembers.

She waits, flask still held out for Regina to take, and after a few seconds, she feels the brunette's grasp on her hand slacken as she relieves her of the item, taking a deep gulp from it.

—

An hour and two magically refilled flasks later, they're at the mansion, sprawled in the living room floor, and Regina is crying in Mal's arms again, just as she used to, except this time it's not due to Leopold's clammy hands on her, or to the despair of not being able to enact her revenge. This time, Regina cries for love.

She cries for the thief (a man Maleficent sees no worth in, really, but, well, who is she to judge?), she cries for the happiness she'd thought she'd finally obtained after struggling down a new path of good and heroism, she cries because once again, the injustice of the world picks her as its favorite punching bag.

They drink, she cries, and they drink some more, Regina's silent tears fading away into the soft silk of her blouse, until it seems she's shed every single salty drop her body could conjure and she's left with deep, uneven breaths exhaled warmly against Maleficent's neck.

Her fingers weave into dark locks and scratch lightly at Regina's scalp in that loving way she used to, because Maleficent knows, Maleficent remembers, and this is how it's always been, her touch the only soothing balm amongst a sea of frustration, the only thing she can offer her friend in moments like these, the only consolation in a world of pain.

"I miss him," Regina whispers in the dark as she sinks further down Mal's body to rest her head on her lap, and her voice is so low, like she's afraid speaking louder will make it more real, will make it hurt more.

"I know, dear," the dragon replies, her nails still scraping over her friend's head, still playing with her hair, still soothing the ache she knows she feels.

"Do you think I'll ever be happy? Truly happy?" her friend asks then, and she gives her the answer she always does when Regina asks things like this, because that's what the young queen is looking for, Mal realizes, she wants the familiarity of their time together before all this, needs that comfort right now, and she's all too willing to give it.

"Oh, I'm absolutely certain you will be."

Because Maleficent knows, Maleficent remembers.

Because despite having locked her up in dragon form for all those years, despite now being friends (family, even) of the people who stole her unhatched child from her, to Maleficent Regina will always be the brave young queen who gave her back her fire, the idiot girl who took the broken pieces of her life and put them back together for her, and she will gladly repay the favor as many times as it is needed.


	4. The Dragon

**_For Dragon Queen Week - Day 3: First Times._**

* * *

She'd expected her first time to be… strange.

She'd expected it to be difficult, outlandish, even scary.

She'd never expected it to be wonderful.

Regina had been fascinated by Maleficent's ability to transform, by the sheer, raw power the sorceress had to possess to shift her slender shape into that of a ferocious dragon. That power seduced her, that power drew her in, that power is what made this new friendship between her and the older woman so… erotic.

But she hadn't expected this visit to the Forbidden Fortress to end with her first ride on a dragon's back, and the offer had startled her…

 _"Oh, I don't know," she'd begun, but Maleficent had cut her off with a sinfully seductive smirk, fingers trailing softly over her face, their breath mingling._

 _"Oh, I think you do. Tell me, Regina, are you a bad girl?" she'd asked, a hint of defiance in her voice, and Regina had been unable to resist, so very attracted to the idea of proving herself to the woman in front of her._

 _"The worst," she'd replied haughtily as she'd found her resolve, throwing back a wicked smile that felt out of place on her at first, but she'd grown more and more accustomed to it by the second. More than that, she'd liked it, embraced this new feature of the fierce side of her that emerged around the she-dragon._

 _Maleficent had then smiled, winked and stepped back from her, finding space in the middle of the clearing, near that burnt tree they'd come to seek, and then it had all been smoke and swirling dust for a few moments, the foggy magic dissipating to reveal the thunderous, gorgeous beast, one that Regina had known could end her with a mere flick of one sharp claw if it felt so inclined. But somehow she hadn't been scared, had known it could recognize her, sense her. Somehow, she'd known that it wasn't really a gigantic, dangerous creature, but her friend who'd stood before her._

 _"How do I…" she'd begun, but Maleficent had anticipated her question, had then dropped to the ground and extended a wing along the span of the earthy floor, easing Regina's climb onto her back._

 _She'd been frightened, because flying wasn't something she was used to. She'd been terrified when the dragon had moved her wings and taken flight, had held on to the large, shiny scales of her skin while the earth became smaller and smaller under them as Maleficent flew higher and higher, until the world had faded away and only the two of them remained._

 _That's when Regina had looked ahead… and smiled._

 _"It's beautiful up here," she'd murmured, leaning into the dragon so that her words weren't carried away by the wind. Maleficent had turned her head towards her and given her an approving glance (and it amazed Regina how easily she could read her, understand her body language even in dragon form), wings still batting against the air to keep them steady as she took in the view. The sun had started to set, bathing the entire kingdom in its orange and pink glow, a sight Regina knew she'd never get tired of, and then Maleficent had sped on, breezing past the forest, twisting and turning over and under the clouds as Regina held on for dear life, a laugh bubbling out of her as they'd torn through the sky. They'd felt unstoppable, a mighty duo of magic and darkness mingling with light and sweet landscapes and the gentle flight of birds and gusts of pure, clean air. It'd been a rush, a high, to know that they held the power to be there, in a beautiful, unsullied setting usually reserved for those of a more innocent or heroic nature, and Regina had never felt so free._

 _It'd been cold, cold and fast and marvelous as the wind slapped against her, untangling her hair from its intricate braid and sending it flying every which way as she'd let herself enjoy the moment, chuckling and taking in her surroundings, uncaring for the first time in a long time._

They reach the rooftop of King Leopold's castle undetected and all too soon, despite Maleficent having taken a few detours to make the ride just a little longer. She waits patiently as Regina clambers off, and when there's a safe distance between them, Maleficent changes back to soft curves and blond locks in a flurry of smoke and ashes, while Regina stares at the graceful, stunning display of magic with nothing but devotion for the other woman.

Mal focuses her eyes on her then, and grins in a way that makes Regina feel self-conscious.

"Your hair's a mess," the sorceress explains when she sees her hesitation, and the young queen exhales a laugh, removes what few pins are left in her updo and tries to gather her hair in her hands to fix it, but Mal is batting those hands away, grasping her shoulders and turning her so that her back is to her.

"Let me," she whispers as she leans in close, warm breath washing over Regina, lips ghosting over the skin of her cheek in a way that makes her shiver.

Regina relaxes under Mal's attentions, almost purrs at the gentle way in which she plays with her hair, weaving her fingers through it, using her long nails to scratch softly at her head and then comb the strands together, braiding her tresses down until she reaches the ends of her hair, and then she lifts the braid, twisting it into a bun at the nape of her neck and securing it with the pins she takes from Regina's hand.

"There you are, your majesty," she breathes in her ear when she's done, and it's the first time Regina doesn't hate her title, the first time she actually thinks she could get used to it, so long as the captivating woman behind her keeps saying it like that, raspy and sarcastic and lovely.

"When will I see you again?" Regina asks, hope coloring her tone.

"Soon, dear," Mal appeases, throwing her a wink to accompany that mischievous grin.

She transforms back into a dragon then and takes off, disappears into the clouds once again as she flies away, Regina's gaze following her until she's nothing but a speck in the distance.

And when Rumplestiltskin finds her in the stables and asks how she's managed such a quick return from so far away, Regina keeps her back to him, smiles smugly to herself as she nonchalantly replies, "on the back of a dragon, how else?"


	5. Peeping

**_For Dragon Queen Week - Day 4: Caught_**

* * *

She doesn't mean to stare (but then, she hadn't meant to follow her either, yet here she is).

She doesn't mean to linger (and yet she can't seem to tear herself away from the tree she's hiding behind).

She doesn't mean to spy on her (but how can she not, when the view is so tempting?).

That is what the young queen is for Maleficent, temptation. Temptation and a walking contradiction, sweet and graceful in her demeanor but ruthless and dangerous in her motives, the emotions swirling inside her a storm of revenge and pain that she doesn't seem to know how to soothe.

Not today, though.

Today, she's calm, fingers lingering over leaves and flowers as she makes her way around the lake, walking slowly on bare feet, breathing in the night air, illuminated by nothing but the moonlight that shines above, reflecting off the water and playing lovely tricks on her face, making it seem otherworldly, like she's a different creature altogether, a nymph in the woods, a goddess among measly earthly things.

She's young, young and angry and stunning, and Maleficent doesn't mean to stare but here she is, staring and staring from her hiding place behind that tree and she doesn't feel one bit sorry for it.

As Regina moves to a place overcrowded by low bushes, she loses sight of her, peeks over the trunk of the tree so that her eyes can find her again and accidentally snaps a twig with her foot as she moves. The young queen stops in her tracks, head raised straight and rigid, like a gazelle that's just heard a lion approach.

Tense seconds pass, and then she seems to regain her easy gait along the lake shore, her toes digging into the muddy banks until she's gone all the way around and reaches a point right near Maleficent's secluded spot, her eyes roaming her surroundings for a moment before long, delicate fingers hook into the front of her robe and pry it open slowly, the silk sliding off bare skin as it pools down at her feet, and the dragon feels her breath leave her as she watches. Her body is beautiful, made of glorious curves and soft skin that begs to be touched and nibbled, a thought Maleficent has been entertaining ever since that first day when Regina had shown up at her fortress, all sass and dark hopes, bringing back her fire and her thirst for revenge to mingle with her own.

She's gorgeous as she turns, the moonlight catching on her skin, glinting off the few jewels she's still wearing, a thick gold bracelet dangling at her wrist, a gold ring hooked on a thin gold chain around her neck. Her hair is all shiny, gentle waves that fall gracefully over the enticing span of her back, tumbling when she looks over her shoulder and smirks (at what, Maleficent does not know).

She's silent, ethereal and tempting, so tempting as she heads into the water, the stillness of the lake rippling to life as she wades in carefully, until she's covered up to her waist and she turns, her full, round breasts on display, nipples tight and peaked thanks to the cool night air, and Maleficent's hungry gaze devours the sight, drinks in every feature, and her mouth waters at the image of beauty before her. Regina's young, inexperienced saved for a few quick romps with her disgusting husband, something Mal knows she's not fond of, so there is no right, no right for her to be this sensual, no explanation as to how she can be so seductive when seduction hasn't been a part of her life.

But oh, how she seduces the sleeping dragon inside Maleficent, how she makes her want to leave this stupid tree and just… pounce, lick and suck and taste and bite at every bit of her until she's screaming her name in ecstasy.

"Are you joining me, Maleficent, or are you just going to stand there and watch?" the little queen's raspy voice cuts through the night like ice, shattering Maleficent's bubble of hidden contemplation. Ah, so it was her she was smirking at earlier… she'd known. From the second she snapped that twig, her young queen had known she was there, and still she'd chosen to undress, to bear herself to her and let her admire her form. It makes the dragon smile wickedly as she finally gets out from behind that tree and saunters over to the lake, losing her clothes in the process.

"Why, I thought you'd never ask."


	6. Escape

_**For Dragon Queen Week - Day 6: Partners in Crime**_

 _ **Unedited so I apologize for mistakes.**_

* * *

They're lying on the small bed, curtains drawn, windows closed, naked bodies tangled with each other, her arm around Regina as the young brunette dozes with her head nestled on her breast, her lips kissing Mal's nipple lovingly every few minutes, while her own fingers paint soft swirls over the small of her back.

It'd been a rough day, their families had almost discovered their affair (they'd almost run into one of Stefan's lackeys while making their way here), and Maleficent would like nothing more than for her husband to find out who she shares her bed with behind his back, and she knows Regina would love to see her own mother's face when she finds out her precious daughter's been sleeping with the enemy. But they can't, at least not until they have a plan, a way to appease both sides.

The Mills crime family is one of the biggest, most influential groups in the country, and Regina is the sole heiress to their mafia empire, has been learning the business since she was ten. Mal has heard the stories: while other children were playing outside and learning how to ride a bike, little Regina was being taught how to use poison to her advantage, how to tell who she could and couldn't trust, and a number of other things no ten year-old should be learning.

Mal had come into the Spindle family through marriage, so her training and initiation into the mob hadn't been as demanding as Regina's, nor have there been as many responsibilities for her besides looking pretty and helping out with the occasional scam, sometimes a kill. She'd met Stefan at a bar, a simple night out, and she'd fallen for him, she really had, to the point where she didn't care that he was the head of the Spindles, that there was a price on his head, or that he was perhaps the most dangerous man in the tri-state area. She was a lonely Jersey girl, and she'd fallen in love with a bad boy, she thought she could handle it, had been ready to take part in whatever was necessary, and she'd succeeded, had made herself a true Spindle in name, if not in blood, and earned the respect not just of Stefan, but of his entire family… and then she'd met Regina.

Their attraction had been instant, they'd met in a hotel, at some random party, nothing to do with their trade, and so they hadn't realized the implications of their involvement until they'd slept together and finally exchanged last names, the alcohol blurring the lines between morality and debauchery to the point where introductions had not been necessary before jumping into bed and devouring each other, and by then it was too late.

Regina had resisted it (and in truth, so had Mal, or at least she'd tried), she never tried to hurt her, but she did try to get away, to forget what had happened, but it was impossible to fight the pull they had on each other, and so their one-night tryst had become a habit.

And now here they are, in their usual motel room, a year of secret rendezvous later, and Mal doesn't know what to do with all the feelings the beautiful young woman in her arms has ignited, doesn't know how to fix this, how to make it so that it's just the two of them and no one else.

"What if we run?" Regina asks sleepily.

"They'd find us," comes Mal's automatic, sad reply.

"Not necessarily, I know people, I could–"

"Remember how you met those people, dearest."

"My mother," Regina says in a low voice.

"Exactly, their loyalty is to her, not you, just as the loyalty of those I know is to my husband, not to me."

"What if we kill them?" Regina asks then, head rising from her cozy place on Mal's breasts. "I could take care of Stefan, and you get rid of Mother, and then we–"

"That wouldn't work, my love, you know that. It's like a hydra, cut off one head…"

"Three more will take its place," Regina recites.

"Exactly," Mal replies, and she feels her shudder, draws a sheet over their naked bodies and sighs contentedly when Regina cuddles closer.

"I refuse to believe that this is all we have," she tells her, lips kissing her neck as hot tears fall from her eyes and on to Mal's skin.

"But it is, my love," Mal replies, the hand on Regina's back rising to thread through her hair in soothing motions, and she feels her relax under the motions, but she knows she's still thinking hard about this, she can almost see the wheels turning in her young lover's head.

Minutes tick by as they lie there in silence, holding each other, caressing absentmindedly, planting the occasional kiss against skin chilly from the air conditioning of their little room, and then Regina tenses.

"Mal," she whispers cautiously, "what if we were to bring them down for good?"

Her interest piques at that, her hand ceasing its ministrations on her hair, "What?"

"You heard me. We could bring the police into this, we could help them stage something that will get the entire family caught, and us in witness protection, so that we never have to deal with them or see them again."

"Regina, no. It's too risky."

"We can do it. I know we can."

"If Stefan finds out, he'd kill you, I can't let that happen. They own us, Regina, we have to obey, we don't have another choice."

"There's always a choice, Mal. You taught me that."

"And how on earth did I achieve such a thing?"

"You knew the implications of having a secret relationship with the daughter of your husband's biggest enemy, you knew how dangerous it was, and still you took the risk, you chose me."

"Darling…" she starts, but Regina sits up then, blanket sliding off her body, pooling on her lap as she crosses her legs and stares at Mal with a spark in her eyes and a smirk in those lovely, full lips of hers.

"Think about this, Mal. We could end it all, we could bring them down, we could be together without a care in the world."

"But–"

"Please, Mal," the younger woman begs, looking straight at her, "I want you, I want you always. I don't want us to risk our lives to love each other anymore. I can't stand it."

She sighs at that, closes her eyes for a moment as she weighs her decision, then opens them to stare directly into the deep brown ones of the woman in front of her, "What did you have in mind?"

Regina smiles bigger than she ever has, jumps on her and kisses her all over, and Mal knows the level of danger this entire operation will entail, knows they can end up dead in a ditch after slow, horrible torture at the hands of her husband or Cora Mills, but this, right now, Regina's reaction to her agreeing to the whole thing, that carefree way in which she crushes their lips together and squeezes her hand as she straddles her, has Mal ignoring every alarm that's going off in her head.

For once, Mal Spindle dares to hope.

—–

"What if I were to tell you you could end the entire Mills family?" Mal asks Stefan one night, walking seductively from the bathroom door to the bed, opening her robe and smiling at her husband as he rakes hungry eyes over her body.

"I'd say that's an admirable dream, my dove, but one that is unfortunately impossible to attain."

"Would I be offering it to you if it was so impossible?"

"Is there something you're not telling me, Mal?"

"Hmm, maybe…" she trails off, biting her bottom lip as Stefan jumps into the bed and next to her, his rough hands roaming her figure, grasping and fondling in the most unpleasant of ways, but she grins and bears it, delivering the information. There's a drug shipment coming in, she tells him, one that Cora herself is going to be inspecting when it docks, and naturally, Cora Mills will require her family to go with her, as she's known to do when big shipments arrive for the Mills business, except no one has ever been able to decode the shipment schedule, so it's always been an impossible feat to catch one, especially since they have every port at their disposal. _Oh, but I'm smarter than dear Cora_ , she informs her husband, _I seduced Leopold Blanchard, her newest lover, he had no idea who I was, can you imagine? Got him drunk and riled up enough, and he spilled every little thing to my very attentive ears_.

"Ah, my smart, gorgeous dove," her husband says (and she hates that nickname, _hates_ it), his arousal intensifying with every ounce of information she provides for him, until he's on top of her, doing things she's found most pleasant in the company of another, but never of him. She pretends to like it, moans and gasps in all the right moments, and hears between his shouts of ecstasy the way he puts his plan together to ambush Cora. She suggests he take the entire family along, too, so that they can end not just Cora, but all the Mills idiots, and he gives her a wolfish grin at that, pounds harder and harder into her, and she pretends to reach her peak, acts as convincingly as she can every step of the way.

By the time Stefan has come inside her and passed out, Mal's fed him all the important details, and she heads to the bathroom, shoots a quick text to Detective Graham from the burner phone he gave her when they met at the motel yesterday. His reply is quick and short, a simple _Thank you. Be careful._ that she erases a second after reading it, checking that Stefan is still asleep as she sends another text.

 _-R?_

There's no need to spell out the full name, Graham will know, and there's a knot in her stomach as she awaits his answer, wondering why it takes him so long to reply until she sees the screen light up with the silent alert of a message.

 _–Her dinner went well, I have four men stationed near the house to watch over her, like I promised. She's alright, I'll see you tomorrow._

Shutting off the phone and tucking it quietly under the loose floorboard near her dresser, Mal tucks herself into the sheets next to her husband and stares at the ceiling, waiting for sleep to come…

When sunlight peeks into the room from her window, she's still wide awake and unchanged, panic starting to settle in her as she grasps what's going to happen in the next two days.

To her surprise, Graham is waiting for her at the motel with two guests, a detective from another precinct and a flustered, smiling Regina, who runs to Mal and kisses her hello, not caring that they have an audience.

"Everything's in place," Graham says, "and I know you both gave me a list of everyone in the bureau who works with your families, but I still personally screened, checked and interviewed everyone who'll take part in the operation to make sure none of them are working with your Cora or Stefan or anyone associated with them. We're in the clear, you'll be safe."

"Thank you," they both say at the same time, Mal holding Regina's hand in both of hers and kissing it in relief at the detective's words.

"Right, tomorrow will be dangerous, so I'm putting the both of you in a safe house for the day, all I ask is that you please remain there until I come get you."

"Okay," Regina says, her voice trembling.

"Are you alright, dear?" Mal asks, one hand flying up to cup her lover's cheek and run a thumb along it.

"Fine, just… nervous, I guess."

"This entire thing was your idea, Ms. Mills," Graham intervenes with a frown.

"That doesn't mean I'll enjoy seeing my entire family go to jail or get shot," she snaps at him, and Mal tugs her closer, one hand cupping the back of her head while the other arm wraps around her waist.

"Shh, it's alright, my darling. We'll be alright," she promises.

"I know," she says into her ear, voice still shaky, "together, right?"

She sounds so small, so innocent and hopeful, like she's ten years younger than her instead of five, and Mal just wants to reassure her, to let her know she's here and she's not backing out, so she does just that by kissing her lips softly, pulling back to look into her eyes.

"Yes," Mal smiles tenderly, "together."

—-

The heist is a disaster, the police don't do their jobs as they should, and they lose a total of seven people between both families when the entire thing goes down, and then it's just Mal and Stefan and Cora and Regina standing in the middle of an abandoned warehouse (they'd found the safehouse, had taken them away and killed the dozen officers keeping watch, kidnapped them to this place, a rare dalliance in teamwork that Mal didn't think her husband capable of, least of all with Cora Mills). Mal and Regina are clutching each other while Cora and Stefan discuss the better ways to punish them for their betrayal, her holding a gun, him with a bloody knife twirling in his hand, but then a gunshot is heard and Stefan falls to the floor with a scream, blood spouting from his knee, and Cora turns her beady dark eyes on detective Graham, who's standing on the other side with a horde of cops, all pointing their guns at the scene.

"It's over, Cora," he tells her, "your family's dead, and those who aren't are already being charged with numerous counts of fraud, embezzlement and murder, you have nowhere to go."

"You foolish girl," Cora spits at Regina, who only cowers into Mal's embrace, "you've ruined your entire family for nothing! Love is weakness, Regina! You'll regret this, you mark my words."

The older woman raises her hands, drops her weapon and surrenders, and suddenly Mal is being swept away from the scene, shoved into an ambulance, and she has no idea what's happening until Regina's face is right in front of her, dropping hurried kisses against her forehead and telling her it's all going to be okay, that the wound is superficial, that they'll sew her up and discharge her in no time. There's blood on Regina's hands, and Mal realizes it's hers, a sharp pain shooting up her side as her hand feels the gash on her skin. She doesn't remember getting slashed at by Stefan's knife, but she supposes the adrenaline and the worry had blocked out the pain until now.

"Graham," she calls out when they reach the hospital, "Graham?"

He appears at her side when the paramedics slow the gurney's advance into the ER, he's sweaty and breathless, but he's there, looking at her and asking what she needs.

"Is it over?" she asks, "Are we safe?"

"You two are the bravest women I've ever met, you know that? Yes, it's over, you're both safe, and we'll get started on witness protection the second you get out of here."

She thanks him and then whatever meds they've just hooked her into start to take effect, and Mal sleeps.

—

They move to a tiny little town in Maine, a place called Storybrooke, where time seems to stand still, full of quaint little shops and colorful folk, and Mal couldn't be happier.

It's a simple life, a tiny cabin near the woods, early mornings and repetitive chores, none of the luxuries she'd been accustomed to, but she has a warm bed and a beautiful woman to share it with, a garden with roses and an apple tree, and more importantly, a life without the weight of their families, without the threatening presence of others and the need to hide feelings for fear of putting her most beloved in danger. Here they are safe, here they are free.

Graham had set them up with a simple and very convincing story. Pam Beaufort and Eleanor Kendall, a young couple looking for a quiet life away from the judgment of their families, it had garnered the sympathy of the people in town, who all took the time to know them and offer their support. They'd been given a rather large amount of money in compensation for helping bring down the Mills and Spindle clans, and they invested it in a beat up old bookstore near Main Street. Regina -or rather, Eleanor- tended to their finances, while Mal herself took care of the more practical things, using her knowledge of architecture (a career she'd started to pursue, but abandoned when she'd married Stefan) to fix up the place. They'd restocked it with more current material and new editions of all the classics, and business is looking good so far.

They're not rich by any means, but they get by comfortably enough, and more importantly, they're together, together and happy and _free_.

Regina walks in the door at six on the dot, dropping her keys on the mantle and shedding her clothes on the way to Mal, leaving a trail of fabric and heels on the floor until she finds her in the living room, a silk robe the only thing keeping Mal from being naked as a jaybird just like her.

"Had a good day, did you, darling?" she asks in amusement as Regina pulls her up and eagerly kisses her, taking all of three seconds to divest her of that robe.

"I did have a good day," she replies, adding, "and now I'm going to have _you_."

And it's bliss when she kisses her way down her body, sucks a nipple into her mouth, swirls her tongue around it. It's bliss when her hand finds her core and rubs at her clit when she parts her thighs. Bliss when she licks her way down the valley between her breasts, bliss when she sighs and moans at Mal's touch, bliss when she comes on her tongue and screams her name.

It's bliss because she loves her, and this is everything they ever wanted.


	7. Drakon

**_For Dragon Queen Week - Day 7: Time Period AU_**

 ** _Set in Russia in the prime of the Romanov Dynasty. Please forgive any mistakes you might find, this is unedited and I'm sure incredibly inaccurate in terms of history, but it's smutty so that makes up for it, right?  
_**

* * *

They call her the dragon, her reputation instilling fear in everyone who knows her, the image of flawless blonde curls and heaving breasts over the tightness of a purple corset sending shivers down the spine of many a man.

She's a perpetual widow, Lady Drakon, some even say she murdered her two husbands just so she could keep their money, but no proof has ever been found of her guilt.

She's fierce, unapologetic and seductive as she wanders in and out of important social gatherings, the hem of her dress swishing against the floor, and Regina is intrigued from the second she sets eyes on her at her cousin Empress Alexandra's birthday celebration at the palace.

She knows she shouldn't venture closer, knows the reputation of the dragon exists for a reason, her entire persona a floating statue of poise and beauty as she moves around bewildered guests who can't tear their gaze away from her, Regina herself among them.

"Absolutely not," she hears a murmur in her ear, and turns to find her friend Daniel standing just behind her, his eyes glued to the retreating figure of the stunning woman.

"What?" Regina asks, feigning innocence.

"You know what… she's dangerous, dearest, you'd do well to stay clear of her while we're here," he warns, ever concerned for her. They've been friends since childhood, and Regina being a granddaughter of Queen Victoria (just like the beautiful Tsarina whose birthday they are celebrating tonight), she'd been allowed to bring a small court with her on this trip to Russia. Of course, she'd chosen Daniel as her main guest, and her mother had been pleased, since he has always been the one to keep her out of trouble.

But trouble is exactly what Regina wants right now, trouble like the kind brewing in Lady Drakon's eyes when she turns and meets her hungry gaze, leaving it only to travel up and down her body in silent appraisal, and Regina has difficulty breathing when she watches her lick her lips in response. Her tiara is heavy, the pearl and diamond choker Alexandra lent her feels like it cuts off her air supply all of a sudden, and her corset seems to get tighter by the second, the red fabric constricting her, entrapping her, and Regina cannot wait to get it off… or rather, have the woman staring at her pry it off, along with every other lavish garment adorning her at the moment.

She walks away from Daniel despite his protests and frustrated shakes of head, makes her way slowly to the dragon and tries to tame her nerves as she reaches her, extending a hand and waiting for the other woman to do the same.

"Lady Drakon," she murmurs, because as a relative to the Empress she's expected to know every guest by name, so she doesn't bother asking hers.

"Your highness," the dragon replies, and her voice is smoky, makes heat flash through Regina as she hears it.

"You know who I am?"

"There's been talk about the Empress's beautiful cousin for weeks, of course I know who you are, dear."

Her authoritative tone makes Regina nervous, has her biting her lip and clasping her hands behind her back, her dress feeling like a hindrance now more than ever, the warmth in the room causing her skin to flush.

"You think I'm beautiful, Lady Drakon?" she asks, and the older woman smiles.

"Call me Mal," is all she says in response.

They part ways, stay on their corners for the rest of the evening, dancing around each other, stealing glances and exchanging secret smiles, and all the while Regina feels an excited fluttering in her belly, a nervous thrill running through her whenever the breathtaking blonde looks her way, and Daniel is shaking his head in amused exasperation at her as he watches the entire affair unfold.

"I'm quite tired, so I'll be heading to my chambers," he tells her in a low voice a few minutes before midnight, his hand on the small of her back as he shuffles closer, "don't do anything I wouldn't do."

He leaves her then, smirking the whole time, and Regina thanks her lucky stars that this is the man that was put on her path. Daniel is a duke in his own right, and she knows at some point her parents will make the deal with his and have them marry, and she's quite relieved that she gets to spend her life with a friend, as opposed to any of the random elderly nobles who have offered to pay her dowry, but she's also happy that it's this particular friend, because he is loyal, because he's kind and understanding of her need for adventure, because he covers her tracks and allows her the freedom she's been so denied growing up in the household of Dowager Princess Cora.

That is the freedom he's allowing her now, leaving her to her fate despite his bemused frustration over her scandalous choices, and Regina takes full advantage of that, saunters her way to the side of the room Lady Drakon is at, takes a glass of champagne from the tray one of the servers presents to her, and waits.

* * *

Everything is a blur, hungry mouths colliding and tasting, crying out in ecstasy when hands rip off beaded corsets and expensive jewelry, leaving a trail of scattered pearls and diamonds and emeralds and rubies on the floor, glinting with what little moonlight streams in from the window and into the stark chamber. It's cold (her own fault, really, since she didn't bother to request that her fireplace be lit while she was at the party), but it doesn't matter, because the heat from Mal's body is seeping into her, and Regina finds herself sweating and moaning at the silky feeling of the woman's slick sex as her fingers play and probe and explore, her mouth still latched on to the blonde's neck, teeth sinking into skin and tongue licking away the slight ache. It's fast, it's messy, it's wonderful, and Regina finds herself surrendering to the other woman's touch, craving her mouth even after she's spent from screaming down the rafters from the pleasure she's provided her.

* * *

Lust becomes the ruler of her life, and Regina skips out on her scheduled social appointments with the Empress three days later, feigning a headache to her cousin when it's announced that Lady Drakon is at court for the afternoon. She finds herself naked inside her bedroom instead of at tea with some friend of Tsar Nicholas or other, her fingers threading into soft blonde waves as Mal's tongue laps at her, lips sucking at the sensitive flesh of her, her wicked blue eyes staring up at Regina's face, taking in her reactions, and the exchange is a wet, delicious favor she's only too happy to return, helping the other woman hoist her body atop her and settling her tongue against her, flicking at glistening folds, laving and sucking and loving every single gasp and moan that erupts out of Mal from where she's got her mouth on Regina, the vibrations of her ecstatic utterances hitting her skin just so, sending her into overdrive.

* * *

It's been three weeks, and they cannot keep their hands off each other.

Regina finds herself at the Drakon house more often than not, sprawled on her lover's bed and enjoying her attentions. Is in fact enjoying them right now, with Mal's fingers pumping a steady, hard rhythm inside her, hooking upwards on the way in and hitting that particular spot inside her that makes her see stars. They've been going at it for over two hours now, the four days between this and their last encounter making them greedy for each other, and Mal's hand is magic as it moves three fingers inside her, and there's a pressure there, a slurpy, slushing sound enveloping them when that hand moves quicker, harder, and Mal's glorious, naked form is lying at her side, lips nipping and sucking and licking at her breasts while that hand continues its sinful raps inside her, and Regina feels like she's about to explode… and then explode she does, spurting a very wet and blissful orgasm, moistening the sheets under her.

"Oh god…" she gasps, trying to catch her breath, and Mal's smug smile greets her.

"No, not god, dear, just me," she teases, lips catching hers then and kissing intensely, Regina's hands finding full, pert breasts and groping softly at the swells, teeth catching on Mal's lower lip, and then she flips them, landing herself on top of the blonde, fingers finding her wet and ready and not stopping their ministrations until she reaches the place inside her that makes the dragon roar her ecstasy, giving as good as she got.

* * *

"When can I see you again?" Regina asks two months later, her tongue swirling over Mal's nipple.

"Word at court is you're leaving in two days, so I doubt there will be a repeat of this," the blonde replies cheekily, gasping when Regina sucks hard at her nipple in response. She's right, they leave for England the day after tomorrow, and somehow the thought of leaving Russia has Regina feeling sad, has her trying to find ways to stay.

But she knows she can't. Her mother will have a fit if she disrupts the schedule that has been so carefully planned for her, and then who's to say she won't forbid all her trips? Or even worse, join her on them so she can watch her every move? No, she can't have that. She must leave.

She says nothing, only tucks herself further into the other woman's warmth and revels in their closeness. Usually, when they're like this, Regina gathers her clothes and leaves after they're done, but lately she's found herself lingering, dozing off in Mal's arms despite their unspoken agreement to not get involved emotionally. She supposes she should go, grab her dress and jewels, fix them back in place and tear herself away from the enticing smell of sex and Mal's perfume, the heat of her body and the welcoming semi-darkness of her room, but she can't bring herself to do it. Instead, Regina finds herself spending the night, kissing a line up her lover's jaw while she's asleep, watching her as she dreams, hands trailing over her body, memorizing it.

Regina leaves as scheduled, and their goodbye is a quick romp in one of the palace's hidden rooms, her skirt rumpled and corset askew when she emerges, but no one connects the dots, no one finds out, and they part with nothing more than a polite smile and the customary dasvidaniya.

* * *

Times goes by, and Regina finds herself engaged to Daniel seven months after her trip to Russia, married within the year, and perfectly content. She helps her friend manage his estate, finds the fun in it, her financial independence from her mother doing wonderful things for her mood. She and Daniel discuss the women he takes to bed, laughing together at this strange arrangement of theirs (they've never seen each other as anything more than brother and sister, so they allow each other certain pleasures outside their marriage, provided they are both discreet about it). Regina takes other lovers, men and women alike, and she enjoys her life, but often wonders what became of her dragon, of the stunning, dangerous woman whose inner fire could scorch an entire room if she so wished it.

* * *

When she goes back to Russia to meet the Empress's newborn son and heir to the Romanov throne, Mal is still at court, still quiet and mysterious and mouthwateringly beautiful… and when their eyes meet across the room like they did so long ago, she smirks, and it's like nothing has changed, like time had frozen their very souls when they parted, only to reignite them now that they meet again. In mere minutes, they're in Regina's chambers within the palace, and they are lost… lost in delicious bare skin and soft tresses, lost in the taste and feel of each other.

Just like old times.


	8. Lost and Found

_A belated birthday present for Carissa._

 _Enjoy!_

* * *

Pamela Swynford de Beaufort.

That's what it says on the opulent plate hanging from her office door on 3rd Street, an imposing name for an imposing character, and yet it's nothing compared to her old name, to the woman and majestic creature she used to be.

Regina remembers riding on her back, scaly wings stretching into the darkness of night, back when all that mattered was the wind and the seductive thrill of torturing their enemies.

Maleficent has forgotten who she is, carried away by a curse of Regina's own making, a curse that Rumplestiltskin had stolen and used on the only thing she cared about, knowing it would hurt her. But Rumple had made a mistake, he'd still considered Regina his apprentice, a youngling trying to earn his respect, the broken girl seeking revenge to seal the gaping wound of her loss.

Once again, the Dark One had vaingloriously thought himself above her. He hadn't realized that upon banishing the dragon, he'd awakened a fierce quality in the queen, a raw instinct known only to those who share an intimate bond with such a magnificent being.

The Dark One hadn't realized that in taking the dragon away, he'd unleashed the wrath of an equal.

Regina hadn't hesitated, had trapped her former mentor in an impenetrable cell, one flanked with squid ink spiked with mushroom oil from Wonderland, to paralyze him and make him hallucinate all his past transgressions and losses, to hurt him as much as he hurt her.

She'd left him to rot in that cell in the Enchanted Forest, and gone in search for her friend. Spells, potions, enchantments and ancient runes have helped her travel to this world, to this humid spit of land in the swampy corners of Louisiana, where Maleficent has lived for the past year, completely oblivious to her true abilities, her power, her _name_.

Regina's done her homework, has kept an eye on her former lover and discovered everything there is to know about this new persona. She's a lawyer here, as it turns out, lives in a small mansion in the outskirts of town and constantly dresses provocatively in pant suits and heels and red lips that torture her the longer she stares at them.

"May I help you?" Pamela asks, sounding bored, yet soft and alluring, just like Mal always did.

"I just... I, uh, I'm..." Regina trails off, exasperated at not having the faintest idea how to fix this, how to tell her about her true nature without sounding like a lunatic and getting herself thrown out of the dingy vampire-themed bar she's found her in.

She seems to favor this place, and Regina would wager it has a lot to do with the crowd, weird and sharp-toothed as they are. She can't help but think maybe Mal feels a pull to them because she knows she's different, too. Perhaps this means there's still a chance to reawaken the dragon inside her. Perhaps this means not all is lost.

"Are you going to babble with that pretty mouth all night, or are you going to buy me a drink?" Mal drones, still sounding disinterested, though her eyes roam Regina's figure in a way that makes her shiver. Yes, she'll buy her a drink, definitely.

"Bourbon, please," she tells the bartender, showing two fingers.

They don't say anything else, foregoing the banalities of introductions and small talk, take their shots at the same time, and then simply look at each other, Mal's gaze devouring her like it used to during those late nights at the Forbidden Fortress, when her desire licked at Regina's skin and had her moaning and writhing under her fiery touch.

Five shots later, the young queen is being unceremoniously slammed against a wall in Mal's house, after a speedy ten minute drive full of sexually charged silence. They hadn't even made it past the foyer before they were surrendering to each other's feral wants, the feel of Mal's shallow exhales on Regina's neck making her burn that much more for her.

Eager teeth and warm tongue assault her neck, and Regina nearly cries out at the sensual overload. Mal may have forgotten who she is, but the fire is still there, a fire that has always drawn them together, and it's that fire that ignites them now, when she rams Regina harder against the wall in the living room, lips harshly kissing hers, bruising and primal and absolutely titillating.

"Mal," she gasps against her when she feels her hand squeezing a breast, and the blonde stops, releases her delicious grip on the gentle swell over her shirt, and stares at her.

"My name's Pam, dear," she breathes with an impish smile, then dives right back in, tongue instantly plunging into her mouth, exploring her, teeth grazing against Regina's bottom lip as she moans and grips her hips to bring her closer.

If she hadn't been so busy ripping off her shirt, tasting and licking every inch of skin that she can reach, Regina would've noticed the magic, would've seen the tendrils of purple smoke now wrapping around them, thicker and thicker the more heated their exchange becomes, until they're enveloped in them completely, and it's the wind that startles them apart, the cold bite of it hissing against the embers left by wanton kisses on heated flesh, cooling wet patches of skin on necks and shoulders and mouths.

When warmth settles in again, it's Mal who speaks first.

"I've missed you, my darling," she whispers, hand caressing Regina's cheek, her jaw, and it's only then that it dawns on her.

She remembers.

It catches her off guard, to recall that true love's kiss can break any dark spell, meaning that it's because she's in love with her that the curse has been lifted. Regina had never considered her feelings for Maleficent to be love, she'd always thought them too sinful for that, too physical, but she understands now that this bond they share goes way beyond the carnal gratifications their bodies crave from each other, and it terrifies her .

"Don't overthink this, Regina," Mal rasps as she finishes stripping them both of their clothes, "it's just you and me. Like old times."

And it is, it's just them, the familiar scrape of her teeth on her nipple, the sultry looks and heady kisses, all of which Regina is indulging in right now, losing herself in the sound and smell and feel of the dark sorceress she loves, one that's only just now recovering her identity, but whose body has missed Regina's as much as she has missed hers in turn.

They end up in the living room floor, sprawled on the afghan rug near the fireplace, decorative candles on the surfaces around them lighting up with her own fire, burning bright and casting their yellow gleam on the contours of Mal's body as Regina moves to straddle her, hands seeking her breasts, kneading and squeezing while she watches her face intently, taking in the pleasured gasps that escape her, the way she licks her dry lips and orders her to keep going.

But Regina stops instead, smiling softly at the little whine Mal gives her when she does. It's not for long, though, just enough to grab the nearest candle, staring at its flame with awe as she hovers it over Mal's body, waiting for her to nod her approval before tilting the squat pillar just slightly, watching with fascination as hot wax drips down and onto the fair skin of the dragon temptress writhing beneath her.

Maleficent whimpers at the action, arches up with every drop, and Regina continues to watch, enraptured by how she turns those pinpricks of pain into buds of pleasure, rolling her hips and grasping at her thighs.

"More," she breathes, writhing still, and Regina obeys, tracing a line of hot melted wax from one breast, down her middle and all the way to her navel, pausing to return the candle to the coffee table and move off of her, only to loom over her body and lick a parallel path next to the waxy strip, stopping to suckle kisses here and there, until she's down with her face buried between Mal's thighs, tasting her wet folds, basking in the strangled moans of ecstasy she's able to coax out of her with her attentions, two of her fingers finding their way inside and searching until she hits the spot that she knows will drive her mad with pleasure.

"I've missed the way you taste," Regina admits, savoring the moment, the mere concept of having her back in her arms, hers to sample and explore, making her wetter and wetter.

It usually takes them longer, but they've been apart for too long, the passionate brushing of their naked bodies against each other adding to the pent-up nostalgia of their sexual reacquaintance, and after a few thrusts of Regina's fingers, a few more firm passes of her tongue, Maleficent is coming, hard and wonderful as Regina continues to lap at her, her eyes fervent as they look at her from where she's positioned, watching her face as it contorts and relaxes, breaths leaving her in deep exhales for a few moments before she's sitting up, dragging Regina's body atop her, murmuring how beautiful she is when she's astride her again.

"Get the candle, let me watch you," Maleficent says, her tongue licking her lower lip as Regina heeds her soft spoken command and grabs the pillar from the coffee table once more, tilting it over her own body this time, hissing at the sharp heat when it makes contact with her skin, but Mal's gaze is scorching as it watches the oily drops cool and harden on her breasts and the smooth valley between them.

Regina moans when Maleficent's thumb finds her clit as she wedges a hand between them, and it all shifts, turns any remnants of pain from the wax into intense pleasure, a gateway to the erotic satisfaction being provided by the soft pad of Mal's finger against her sex. She's wet, needy, rowdy for her, grinding her hips against her, searching for any kind of friction as more and more hot wax begins to coat her body, until she's a mess of smooth solid drops, the last one landing so close to her nipple that it borders on unbearable, but then her lover is there, mouth latching on to that nipple and sucking, tongue swirling, teeth grazing, moving in a wet trail to the other and doing the exact same thing, one arm holding her tight around the waist while the other continues to thrum her clit, spreading the wet evidence of her desire all over it before she leans further into her, carefully taking the candle from her and laying her down, her back on the rug.

"My turn, dear," her dragon whispers hotly after setting the candle back on the table, fingers venturing inside as she scoots down low enough to lick at her clit and rams her hand against her, her rhythm quick and deep and incredible, a depraved moan spilling from her lips when Regina loudly whimpers a _Yes! Right there!_ that disrupts their breathy, quiet atmosphere in the best of ways.

She comes on a particularly hard thrust of Mal's fingers inside her, lips parting open as she gives a high-pitched squeal that makes her lover laugh lightly against the inside of her thigh, dropping a kiss there before she moves up to pepper more of them along her skin, until she reaches her jaw, nips at it, and finds her lips, tongues tangling and tasting each other's arousal, Mal's hand still roaming her body, catching a breast and groping lightly before moving down behind her and grasping her rear, pushing them closer together.

"You came back for me," Maleficent says against her lips, her tone low, cheeky, even a little smug.

"Of course I did," replies Regina nonchalantly, kissing her long and slow for a few delirious seconds, the taste of her, of both of them, addictive and intoxicating all at once.

"Making it to this realm without a curse can't have been easy," Mal says then, looking curious. Another kiss, and her blue eyes start to shine, a purple glow igniting them, bringing back the shadow of the glorious beast that hides within her.

Regina thinks of everything she did, of all the lives she took, the pesky potion ingredients she risked her life to find, the days she spent lost in Wonderland after looking for that mushroom oil to mix with the squid ink, all the torture she had to endure, to get through the vicious creatures guarding certain ancient spells that she thought could help her, the pain of the wounds caused by enchantments gone wrong... and then replies, holding nothing back.

"It was worth it."


End file.
